


To Hold Your Trust

by estelraca



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Restraints, very light bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: The first time Jyn ties Cassian up is an practically an accident, but it ends up being good for both of them, a way for Jyn to show Cassian how much she cares and how safe he is with her team.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29
Collections: Mild Heart Attack 2020: Short Treats Collection





	To Hold Your Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cat2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/gifts).



> I really, really like the idea of this dynamic, but I... am not super good at writing explicit stuff. I tried, though, and I hope you get some enjoyment out of it!

_To Hold Your Trust_

The first time Jyn ties Cassian up is an accident.

Cassian is back. Cassian is _hers_ again, after having been taken by Draven for almost six weeks for a mission that Jyn was told she didn't have the _classification_ to know about. He came back as he usually does from his spy missions, quiet and withdrawn and tired.

She took him out with the rest of Rogue One, made sure he ate. She sat him next to Bodhi and Chirrut, knowing that his protectiveness of the ex-Imperial would help on the one hand, and that Chirrut would know what to say on the other.

And now, after she's made sure that he's had a decent meal and a conversation with people who know _who he is_ , know _who he wants to be_ , she's going to remind him that he's _hers_.

She's usually the one who's the more aggressive in the bedroom, and this is no exception. Though it might be an exaggeration to call the space where they are a _bedroom_. It's a room, but she's not sure it was supposed to be more than a supply closet, and the five cots for Rogue One when they're on base are practically stacked atop one another.

They have two hours. She knows they have two hours because she arranged it with the others. If she needs more, she'll be able to arrange that, too. All of them know how Cassian can be after a longer mission, and none of them like seeing him that way.

She doesn't give him time to think. Thinking is what's tearing him apart right now, and she can't stand to see it. So when he turns to her, she presses forward. The backs of Cassian's knees hit the edge of the cot, and he allows himself to fall, his hands grabbing her sides and pulling her down atop him.

Since that's exactly where she wants him to be, she just grins and allows it, waiting until they're horizontal to kiss. She's tried kissing him while they fall before, and there's too big a risk of someone's lip getting split when they hit the cot.

She grabs his shirt, shoving it up, running her hands along the smooth skin of his right side, over the raised ridge of scarring on the left side that is another unnecessary reminder of Scarif.

“Jyn—” Cassian gasps out her name and she kisses him again.

If he's still talking, she's not doing her job right. She's not distracting him well enough, not pulling him _here_ well enough. She straddles his hips as she kisses him, rocking her body.

When she breaks the kiss for a breath this time, all Cassian does is groan. Better. That's what she wants.

She unzips his pants, shoving them down towards his ankles. His boots are still on, she knows, but she can deal with that later. Right now, she just wants him undressed enough to tease—undressed enough to come _undone_ , but in a _good_ way.

She shoves his shirt up higher, her teeth trailing down his neck, down his chest, nipping at his left nipple as her fingers toy with his right.

Her weight is on her knees still, and she allows it to settle slowly onto Cassian's lap, rocking again. She'll need to take her own pants off soon, but not yet.

Not until she's made sure she has Cassian _here_ enough that it's going to be all right.

She pushes his shirt up over his head, onto his arms. His jacket is still on, but she just bundles the fabric together, leaning in for another kiss.

Cassian kisses her back, his arms squirming under hers as he tries to free himself from his clothes. She shifts her hand, putting her weight on the cot. She tilts Cassian's head, her tongue going to his ear, and—

“Jyn.” His voice is strained but clear, more akin to how he sounds on a mission than when he's with her.

She stops immediately, sitting up. If this isn't working, she's not going to push it, not if he needs to talk. “What?”

“I—” A flush creeps up his neck, across his face. “It's stupid, but I'm stuck.”

She has to blink, pushing back her own libido and sitting up to study him. His shirt and jacket have gotten tangled together, above his right elbow and below his left, and he is indeed stuck.

Jyn laughs, relief running through her, though the relief fades as she sees that Cassian's expression is still more true concern than silly shame.

Jyn helps free him, shifting off him so that he can kick his boots and pants off, leaving him in his underwear. He looks strangely vulnerable like that, and she tugs the blanket off Bodhi's bed to drape over Cassian's shoulders. “Hey, it's all right.”

“Of course it is.” Cassian smiles, but she's gotten good at seeing the ghosts in his eyes.

“No, it's not.” Jyn presses her index finger to Cassian's breastbone.

“Now I'm getting mixed messages.” The teasing edge to Cassian's tone is real, and some of the ghosts fade, though not all the way.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.” Jyn lowers her hand, keeping her gaze locked with his.

“That it's a shame I'm not as flexible as I once was and this happened at all.” Cassian reaches out to slip a hand under her shirt.

Jyn grabs his wrist, pulling his fingers back before they can touch her skin. “Uh uh. Words first.”

“That's not what you were thinking earlier.” Cassian sits back, expression darkening.

“Come on.” Jyn reaches out to take his hand. “I was thinking earlier that I wanted to help you, to make you comfortable. To get your mind out of the mission. But something happened that threw you right back into mission mode. What was it?”

“You know what it was. I don't know why you need me to say.” Cassian's accent thickens, though his words are more clipped as he stares hard at her. “Do you want me to say that I've been tied up and fucked on a mission? Does that make it easier? Do you _understand_ enough now to continue with this so that the others can actually get a night's sleep tonight?”

Jyn freezes, caught off guard by the vehemence with which he throws the words at her. It _had_ been what she was trying to get at, yes. What she had been trying to confirm, because she doesn't want to hurt Cassian, doesn't want to do anything that's going to blur the lines between _here_ and _there_. But if the lines are already blurred that badly, if she can't even keep him here with this—

“It's not—” Cassian draws a shaking breath, lets it out in a smooth sigh. “It's really not that big a deal. I'm handsome. You say so yourself all the time. I've done what's needed to get the information I needed. I'd prefer to use my body than to shoot my sources, and I've done the latter much more than the former.”

Not recently, though. She knows he's been... she doesn't want to say more careful. Cassian was always careful, always _tried_. But he refuses to be as much of a monster as he used to be. If it comes down to shooting a source or going down swinging, she knows she'll be going in after his body.

She'll make every Imperial in the whole Force-damned galaxy pay if it comes down to that.

She reaches out tentatively, touches his chest again.

He allows the blanket to drop, reaching out to cup her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss. This time, when his hands go under her shirt, she allows it.

He undresses her more slowly than she undressed him, clearly treasuring every moment, every new bit of skin he exposes.

When she's naked, she straddles him, pressing him down onto the bed again. He goes easily, his eyes locked on her, _focused_ on her just the way she wants.

“You're still seeing something other than me.” Cassian's thumb strokes along her cheek, over her lips.

“No.” Jyn suppresses a shudder. “Still just seeing you. Just...”

“Now who can't let the mission go?” There's gentle teasing in Cassian's voice, but also something regretful in the way his mouth quirks, the way his eyes crease.

“Did you...” Jyn gently lies her body down atop his, stretching out so that she can grip his arms with hers. His limbs are too long, and she can't quite get down to his wrists. She doesn't know where she's going with the question—she doesn't want to know if he enjoyed being tied up before or not, because she knows the answer is _it was a mission_. It's always the mission, and she doesn't know how she's going to buy him back from the war when it's finally done.

Like she and the others have been buying him back now, one piece, one _memory_ at a time.

“If I...” Jyn tightens her hold, watching Cassian's eyes. He doesn't flinch, doesn't retreat back behind any of his spy's masks. “If I tied you up...”

Cassian's chest rises as he breathes in deep and then just holds the breath, both of them poised, paused. “Do you _want_ to?”

Jyn releases his arms, sliding down just a bit so that she can rest her nose against his. “I always want to have you flat on your back and helpless under me.”

Cassian laughs, a startled bark of sound. Then he twists her head, stealing a kiss as she struggles to keep her balance and not headbutt him. “I'm yours, Jyn. For whatever you want.”

“I'll keep you to that, later.” When the war is over, because it _will_ end, she will make sure Cassian comes with the rest of them. She will make sure he gets a chance to live in the world he has carved himself up to create.

But right now...

“I don't have any ropes.” She hadn't been expecting to need them. She's not sure she actually knows how to do this properly.

“I do. Check my locker.”

“Of course you do.” Jyn scrambles off Cassian, feeling too cold away from his skin. It doesn't take her long to find the length of cable. She hesitates, holding it and looking at Cassian. “You're sure...”

“I'm sure. With you... I could do anything.” Cassian stays prone on the cot, his arms above his head.

Jyn just ties his hands, and she doesn't do so tightly at first. She doesn't want to hurt him by accident.

“Tighter.” Cassian twists his wrists, slipping his hands out of the restraints without issue.

“You could just try not doing that.” Jyn mutters the words as she untangles the line and starts again.

“If you want to replace _then_ with _now_ , you need to make it tight enough I can't get away without hurting myself. Which I won't do, because it's _you_.” Cassian cranes his neck, watching her as she ties his wrists to the legs of the cot.

“You won't hurt yourself because it would be _stupid_ and I don't want you hurt. Just... mine.” It's thrilling, seeing him there, trussed up and _trusting_ her.

“Yours.” Cassian breathes out the word. “A part of Rogue One.”

“A part of Rogue One.” Jyn trails her fingers down his chest, runs her palm along the smooth muscles of his abdomen. “A hero of the rebellion.”

Cassian tenses again. He doesn't consider himself a hero, she knows. If anything he'll think of himself as a redeemed villain, and that's just not _fair_.

She straddles him again in one smooth motion, pressing as much of her body against him as she can. “You're a _hero_ , Cassian Andor. Not always a good man, not always perfect, but still a _hero_. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Cassian whispers the word, looking up into her eyes.

“You're _my_ hero.” She rakes her nails down his sides, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to stimulate. Her hips rock against his body again, and she's rewarded with a groan and a swelling in his groin. “You've been my hero since Scarif, and I don't want to give you up.”

“You don't have to.” Cassian gasps, arching into her next motion. “I'm yours.”

“And you've been so good about that.” Jyn leans down to nibble at Cassian's neck, feeling the taut muscles there, the thrum of his pulse. “So good about coming home.”

“Home.” He whimpers this time as she moves, his hands automatically trying to lower, to wrap around her. The bonds stop him, and he ends up pulled tense, needy and frustrated, every piece of him focused on _her_.

She reaches up, touching his biceps, trailing her hands down his triceps before transferring her hands to his face. “You're _mine_ , and you're _home_ , and you're going to be _good_ while I reward you for it, right?”

Cassian's eyes are wide, his breath fast in his throat, his erection hard against her thigh.

She kisses him, softly, gently. He's _hers_ , and he's home, and she's going to make sure he keeps coming back.

Riding Cassian is always a heady thing, but it's somehow even better like this—being able to touch him, to direct him, to keep him always, always where she wants him.

She brings them both to climax, and then curls against Cassian's side, listening happily to him muttering in Festian. She'll need to have him teach her more so that she understands what he's saying when she does this to him.

“I take it you enjoyed that.” Cassian's words are thick, but his Basic is clear again.

“Very much so. You seemed to, as well.” Jyn leans up on one elbow, wanting to watch his face, to make sure she doesn't miss any nuances.

“More than I should have.” Cassian grins, no guile in the words. “What can I say? I like it when you take control.”

“I like it when you let me.” Does that make her no better than all the other people who have used Cassian? She doesn't think so. She's trying, so hard, to keep him _alive_ , to keep him _wanting_ to stay alive. “Do you want... could we do this again?”

“If we get the proper restraints.” Cassian jiggles his wrists. “These are making my hands go numb.”

Jyn scrambles to release her knots, wincing at the red marks on Cassian's wrists. “You should have told me.”

“I would have, if it seemed important.” Cassian grabs hold of her, tugging her back down to lie next to him. “But it didn't, so I didn't.”

“If we do...” Jyn has spent enough time in rougher parts of the universe so have at least an inkling of how these things should go. “We'll need, like... a safeword, right?”

“We would.” Cassian is quiet for just a few seconds, clearly thinking. “Fulcrum.”

Jyn startles, frowning. “Is that—”

“It's not something I would say in normal conversation or in bed.” Cassian reaches over, threading his fingers through Jyn's hair. “And it's a word I'll remember and be able to say on my deathbed. Fulcrum.”

Jyn's not sure that's the best idea. She's trying to take him _away_ from the spy life when she pins him to the bed. But maybe... maybe this is Cassian's way of telling her that she can't, that it's as integral to who he is as the time he spends with Rogue One and with her.

“All right.” Jyn kisses him, a slow, gentle press of their bodies together. “I'll be better prepared next time.”

Cassian laughs, and he looks so much younger when he laughs, almost like the age he's supposed to be. “I have no doubt you will be.”

Jyn rolls him over and pins him to the bed, kissing him more firmly.

They still have an hour, and if she needs more time she's certain she can get it.

They have the rest of the war and whatever peace comes after to learn each other, after all, and she intends to make good use of it all.


End file.
